


Small Town Secrets

by damnfancyscotch



Series: Whimsy & Confusion [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: All The Tropes, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Beacon Hills, Gen, Pack Dynamics, Pack Feels, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Sheriff and Stiles Move There, Slow Build, fight me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-10-18 10:41:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10615206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/damnfancyscotch/pseuds/damnfancyscotch
Summary: “Hey, you okay?”Stiles looks over at his dad and shrugs a little before looking back out the window. He looks just in time to see a sign going by:Welcome to Beacon Hills.John sighs. “I know I told you we wouldn’t move again until after your Senior year, but I think this place could be a good one."-----Stiles' dad moves him to some random, podunk town in California right before his Senior year. Don't get him wrong, the house is great and the neighbors seem nice.But there's a lot of howling going on in the woods for a place that supposedly doesn't have wolves...





	

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay... I know I'm supposed to be revising HG right now, but...
> 
> I'm caught in the throes of this big Spring cleaning kick and I've literally changed my entire room around and tackled all these little projects that have been bugging me for a while. The way I set up the original Whimsy & Confusion has been annoying me for ages so, Imma fix it...
> 
> (Plus it means it's easier for me to add new chapters to stories that you guys liked, so, there's that...)
> 
> Therefore, I implore you to enjoy the first chapter of a story that I'm not sure what I'm going to do with but I'm pretty sure I will continue!

“Hey, you okay?”

Stiles looks over at his dad and shrugs a little before looking back out the window. He looks just in time to see a sign going by: _Welcome to Beacon Hills_.

John sighs. “I know I told you we wouldn’t move again until after your Senior year, but I think this place could be a good one. Plus we’re not so far from the colleges you wanted to go to anyway, so…”

Stiles bites his lip, feeling like a jackass. He knows this move is good for his dad, that he’s getting a big promotion and blah blah blah. “I’ll be fine, Dad. I’m sure this is a good town.” He tries to smile – he’s not sure how well he does – and repeats, “I’ll be fine.”

It’s weak but John seems to settle a little after that, his grip on his steering wheel loosening a little. They drive through a quaint little town, past stores and a library and a cluster of schools.

“That’s where you’ll be going to school,” John points out.

Stiles flicks his eyes over the generic high school, grunting.

After a little while longer, John points to the police station. “And that’s where I’ll be working.”

The station is generic too and Stiles has to stifle a groan at how _boring_ the town seems.

They pass through the town and head into a more wooded area. Stiles perks up a little as they move further along a gravel driveway before pulling up in front of a sprawling old house. He actually has his face pressed to the window a little when John parks.

“It’s a little big for us,” John says, looking up at the house too, “but it was a good deal and I like the location.”

“Not too close to town,” Stiles agrees, grabbing his phone and hopping out of his dad’s SUV. He looks up at the house and has to admit it’s kind of cool, a little old Victorian meets rustic cottage and he’s impressed and confused about how any architect could achieve both in one building.

“But still close enough to get to everything pretty easily.” John rubs his chin as he looks up at the house and mumbles, “Needs a car.”

“What?” Stiles asks, moving to get his book bag and a suitcase from the car.

“Oh, nothing. Just trying to remind myself of something.” He smiles at Stiles and pulls out a set of keys. “Let’s look around.”

“I want an actual library,” Stiles says as they go up the porch stairs, thinking of his collection of books and how cluttered his old bedroom was with all the books all over the place. "I'm tired of having to stack them on the floor."

John nods and unlocks the door. “Deal. Find a good room for it.”

“Sweet,” Stiles breathes as they walk in, the high ceiling and open layout echoing the sound back at him. “This is so cool.”

John smiles at him and Stiles can tell he’s relieved. He waves his hand and Stiles takes off for the upstairs, climbing a sprawling staircase and coming out on a landing that overlooks the entry way where his dad is disappearing into another room.

Stiles leaves his suitcase on the landing and takes a tour of all the rooms. There’s one that’s clearly a Master Suite at the end of the landing so Stiles ducks out of that one and moves toward the other end.

There are three other rooms at this end of the house and he takes the one on the end, dropping his book bag near the door and walking forward toward a long line of windows with a low whistle.

“Dibs,” he mumbles, even though there’s no one to hear him, and watches as a pair of deer peek out of the woods along the back of the yard.

He’s inspecting the apparently walk-in sized closet when he hears a sound like a deep bell and he looks around curiously, heading back out to the landing and looking down at the door when his dad appears.

“That was quick,” Stiles remarks, thinking of the hoard of housewives that appear without fail whenever they move to a new town, eager to greet the new handsome police officer and his son. He smirks down at his dad.

John shoots him an unamused look and squares his shoulders before he answers the door. “Hello.”

“Hello,” a woman greets warmly, standing between two guys roughly Stiles’ age. “I’m Laura Hale. This is Scott,” she gestures to the dark haired guy on her right, “and Isaac,” then to her left at a curly-haired model-looking guy. “We live next door and wanted welcome you to the neighborhood.”

Scott smiles brightly and holds out a glass dish with a cover while Isaac has the pursed lips of someone who is being forced to play nice.

“Well that’s incredibly kind of you,” John says, reaching out to accept the container. “I’m John Stilinski.” He opens the door a little wider and hooks his thumb over his shoulder to where Stiles is lurking and observing. “The Batman impersonator is my son, Stiles.”

Stiles waves two fingers and says, “Sup.”

Scott laughs and Isaac raises an eyebrow as Laura says, “Hello Stiles.” She looks back at John. “Sorry to interrupt your move in but I have to go to work soon and I wanted to be the first to welcome you.”

“Is it a competition?” Stiles can’t help but ask, thinking randomly of a group of eager neighbors, all vying to be the first to welcome the new Sheriff, and not actually to flirt with him. It makes him laugh a little.

“Sort of,” Laura admits with a shrug and a smile. “We’ll leave you to it.”

“Thank you, Laura,” John says, already curiously inspecting the contents of the dish through the glass side.

Stiles narrows his eyes and hopes it’s cookies and not brownies like last time.

“Oh, one more thing,” Laura says, handing John a card. “If you haven’t gotten everything unpacked in time for dinner, or you don’t feel like cooking, come by our restaurant.” She smiles at both the Stilinski men. “The meal will be on us, of course.”

“That’s very kind of you. We appreciate it.” John holds up the card and waves as the three of them walk away. He stares after them for a moment before he shuts the door and looks up at Stiles.

They share a long look.

“That was weird, right?” John finally asks.

“Totally weird,” Stiles agrees, jerking his chin at the container in his dad’s hands. “Give me those cookies.”

John narrows his eyes and hugs the container to his chest. “Never. They’re mine,” he declares and bolts.

“Dad!” Stiles shouts, thundering down the stairs, still impressed by how spry his dad is for an older guy. He starts laughing when he finds John in the kitchen, two half-eaten cookies in his hands.

“Ha-ha-ha, I’ve already eaten them all,” John sing-songs through a mouthful of what look like chocolate chip cookies.

“Lies!” Stiles darts forward and steals three of the cookies from the container.

They stare at each other across the island counter and eat the cookies, trying not to smile.

“Those were really good,” Stiles admits when he’s licking the chocolate from his fingers.

“Better than Mrs. Abbot’s?” his dad asks with a raised eyebrow, referring to their old neighbor who had adored Stiles and constantly supplied him with baked goods.

“Yes.” Stiles nods, putting a hand over his heart. “But don’t tell Mrs. Abbot, it’d crush her.”

“Alright, I think I can manage that.” John crosses his heart and opens his mouth to say something when they hear a horn honking outside. “Damn,” he glances at his watch, “they’re actually on time.”

“Must be magic,” Stiles quips, heading toward the door.

“Must be,” John agrees, clapping him on the shoulder.

Later on, they’re sitting on their back porch, both swinging on separate porch swings, and looking out into their back yard where fireflies are blinking among the trees.

“I didn’t know there were fireflies in California,” John comments, taking a sip from his beer.

“I didn’t think there were.” Stiles’ fingers itch to Google it but he holds off, content to keep swinging and watching the little lights.

After a few more moments of contented silence, John says, “I really appreciate you being so reasonable about this. I know leaving was harder this time.”

They’d been in Georgia since Stiles started high school so he’d actually managed to make friends that lasted this time and leaving them had  _sucked_.

Stiles shrugs, picking at some paint that’s peeling off the arm of his swing. “I mean, I’d be lying if I said I was happy about it.” He shrugs again and smiles at his dad, easier than this morning. “But it doesn’t seem so bad here. I guess…” he glances off into the trees again, “I guess it’s just another learning experience or a new beginning or something.” He waves his hand.

"I like that." John grins, raising his beer. “To new beginnings.”

“To new beginnings,” Stiles echoes, raising his soda.

That night, when Stiles finally calls a quits in unpacking and falls into bed, he hears something he’s never heard outside of nature documentaries: the howling of a pack of wolves.

And it's _really_ close to the house.

He shudders and vows to Google wolves in California as well as fireflies, turning over and grumbling about the bright light of the full moon pouring through his windows as he yanks his covers over his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I said, I'm not sure when I'll continue this or what the plot will be or anything, but, you know, it leaves my options open. 
> 
> Let me know what you think!
> 
> kisskiss  
> ♡Scotch


End file.
